Author's Note: Liked the idea of a Marriage Law, so tried to give it my own take.
Oh and none of these people are mine….
Epilogue
"Ohhh!" Hermione wailed, as the doors of the Great Hall closed behind them. She buried her face in her hands to mask the look of mortal humiliation. Harry looked alarmed.
"What? Hermione, are you okay? Are you in pain?"
"Nothing right now that changing my name and moving to another country wouldn't fix." Harry looked at her with some annoyance. She picked the oddest times to worry about what people were thinking.
"That's what you're worried about? Right now?"
"Everyone in the school was in there. And their parents!"
"Technically, it's not everybody's parents…just the parents of the seventh years…" Harry tried to say casually, but Hermione glowered at him.
"It was in front of a large number of people!" She enunciated clearly, effectively ending the argument.
"I'm sure nobody even noticed."
"Yeah, because you were so subtle, going all wild-eyed like that and yanking me out the door. Do you know how long this could take? We could have at least waited until Ron got his diploma."
"I didn't go…all `wild-eyed'," Harry said defensively.
"What do you call this?" Hermione said, aping a frantic expression. Now it was Harry's turn to glare.
"I don't look like that when I - do I really look like that?" Hermione looked affronted, but the look soon changed into what looked to Harry to be intense concentration. "Hermione?" Harry asked, but Hermione held up one finger in a "just a moment" gesture. After a second, she exhaled slowly and said,
"Okay."
"Okay? Okay? What was that? Was that a -" Harry paused in his rant at Hermione's nod, and added, "You really took it rather well."
"Thank you," Hermione said politely. "They haven't been bad at all, really. Aren't you glad I waited until we got our diplomas?" Harry looked at her as if he could not believe what she'd just said.
"You've been having these for awhile, then?" he asked, his voice dangerously polite.
"Since right before we got dressed for the ceremony," Hermione answered. "I read that first labors can take hours, but since my water broke, I guess… I guess it's getting closer, now." She wrinkled up her nose anxiously. "Do you really think nobody noticed?"
"In those robes? They're - " Harry stopped himself suddenly. He'd been about to say "huge", but changed it to "dark. You said yourself that it wasn't much, since you were standing up when it happened. I'm sure nobody noticed a thing."
"Until you grabbed me and yanked me out of the Hall," she reiterated grumpily.
"You just leaned over and told me your water had broken! What was I supposed to do…say `Okay, thanks for letting me know!'?"
She didn't answer right away, but said, a moment later, a little breathily, "Yeah, I think we'd better go see Madame Pomfrey now."
Hermione settled back against her pillows, and pulled the covers up over her waist, as she reached for her book, stopping to smile fondly at the small bump that was just barely visible under the thick coverlet. Harry came out of the lavatory, dressed for bed, and crawled up in the bed beside her, after dropping his glasses on his bedside table.
"Tired?" She asked maternally, holding her book with one hand, while she ran the fingers of her other hand through his dark hair.
"Snape is a monster," Harry said, his eyes already closed.
"Harry!" Hermione chided playfully.
"D'you think it's because I'm getting some action, and he isn't? Maybe never has?" Harry asked, peeking up at her through one eye. She didn't say anything, so Harry opened both eyes. She was sitting quite still, staring off into middle distance, with one hand over her abdomen.
Harry sat up, jerking the comforter and knocking Hermione's book on the floor.
"Hermione, are you okay?" She smiled at him then, almost ethereally, and took his hand, placing it on the slight swell of her stomach.
Almost immediately, he felt the tiniest nudge, almost like a muscle twitching. His startled gaze leapt up to meet Hermione's. "Was that…?" She grinned brilliantly.
"I thought I'd felt movement earlier this week, but I wasn't sure that that's what it was until now."
Harry snuggled down under the crook of Hermione's arm, his head quite close to her stomach, his hand placed flush against it. "Maybe he'll do it again," he said, with hopeful anticipation. Hermione raised one eyebrow.
"He?" she asked wryly.
Hermione let out another keening cry of pain, as Harry's face went white. Madame Pomfrey leaned to check Hermione's progress, and nodded in satisfaction.
"You're almost ready to push. I'll be back shortly," she said, and swished out through the privacy curtains that had been pulled around the bed.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked her softly, brushing tendrils of sweat-damp hair back from her forehead. She nodded, but her eyes were wide and starry with pain and fatigue. "Why don't you take the numbing potion? Madame Pomfrey said it wouldn't hurt the baby."
"I - I wanted…" she stammered, and broke off, her face contorting with the effort to not cry out at the new wave of pain. Harry knew, watching her with anguish-filled eyes, that to Hermione, it was another thing to experience, to learn, and if she admitted that she wanted the potion, it would be a failure, an inability to get herself through this on her own. "I don't want you to think I'm weak," she panted.
"Weak?" Harry said, in a dumbfounded voice. "When you've been doing this for six hours now? Bloody hell, Hermione, I think you're the strongest person I've ever known."
"Really?" She smiled wanly at him, and he kissed her softly.
"Really," he replied, reaching over for the rejected vial on the medical cart. He held it up for her to see, an obvious question in his eyes, and she sighed, then nodded. She drank the contents, and her body involuntarily shuddered at the foul taste. A few moments later, her eyes were clearer and her body more relaxed.
Madame Pomfrey bustled back in, and checked Hermione again. She eyed the empty vial, with something like satisfaction, but made no comment. "It looks like everything's in readiness. Are you ready to push?" Hermione looked at Harry, and then nodded at the mediwitch. Harry felt a nervous jumpy sensation somewhere near the region of his stomach. His child was about to be born.
"Look at this," Hermione said, gesturing at her stomach in disgust. "If I get any bigger, I'll have to use a three-foot quill to write, because I won't be able to get any closer to this desk!" Harry looked at her from where he was sitting at his desk in their common room, sifting through the piles of paperwork covering every available surface, and chuckled. His searching grew a little more intense, and he turned and began to look on the floor.
"Hermione, have you seen the -"he said, sticking his head under the desk, to look for the wayward piece of parchment.
"Oh, honestly, Harry. Didn't I tell you that you needed to put that somewhere where you could find it later?" She said, gesturing superiorly at her tidy desk, with neat stacks and pigeonholed rolls of parchment. He straightened too early, and hit the back of his head on the underside of his desk, rapping out a muttered oath.
"How do you even know which thing I'm looking for?" He challenged.
"Aren't you looking for the one from Hogwart's?" she said, and he looked at her in surprise, as he rubbed his injured head.
"D'you really think they're serious?" he asked her, confirming her question, without really answering it.
"Why wouldn't they be?"
"I haven't even graduated yet. Why would they offer me a job teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
"Lupin's leaving to work in the Magical Creatures Liaison office. And your N.E.W.T. scores were excellent, Harry. Graduation is just a formality, anyway. Besides, you know more about defending against Dark Arts than anyone else alive!" Harry shifted uncomfortably under her glowing praise, but couldn't suppress a smile.
"But, if you want to work at that research institute in London, I could take the Auror training, and we could live there." Harry pointed out.
"I can floo to London, just as easily as anywhere else," Hermione said, shrugging.
"I just wish I knew how many of these job offers are genuine, and how many are to the `Boy Who Lived'," Harry said, looking forlornly at the piles of paper.
"Well, the job offer from Puddlemuck has got to be real. After all, you were the `youngest seeker in a century'," Hermione said, with a fond smile, but Harry was looking at her as if she'd said something offensive.
"It's Puddlemere, Hermione," Harry said. Hermione gave him a "whatever" look.
"I would've thought you'd jump at the opportunity to play Quidditch and get paid for it. Ron certainly did." Harry reached across the gap between their desks, and took her hand, gently caressing the back of it with his thumb.
"I don't fancy being away from you that much," he answered softly, the look in his eyes making her stomach flip.
"Harry, I don't want to make you -"
"There are some things more important than Quidditch," he said seriously, adding with a wink, "but don't tell Ron I said that."
"One more push should do it, Mrs. Potter," Madame Pomfrey. Harry stood almost behind Hermione, bracing her in a sitting position, and holding one hand. She pushed again, her growl of effort ending in a squeaky gasp of exhaustion, overlapped by the reedy wail of a newborn infant.
Harry stood, frozen by Hermione's side, unable to process exactly what had just happened.
"Mr. Potter," Madame Pomfrey said, in a tone of one who was repeating herself, "would you like to cut the cord?" He came around to Hermione's feet, and pulled out his wand, looking questioningly at the mediwitch. "Just use `diffindo'," Madame Pomfrey coached gently, "nice and easy."
Harry cut the cord neatly, and looked in awe at the tiny human being that Madame Pomfrey was scourgifying and wrapping snugly in a blanket.
"Madame - Madame Pomfrey…what - what is - ?" he began, but she gently put the baby in his arms.
"Go show your son to your wife."
"Son?" Harry echoed stupidly, and Madame Pomfrey's lips twitched, as she inclined her head toward Hermione. He let his gaze travel over to his wife, who was trying to push herself up into a sitting position. Her face was flushed and weary, and her hair was damp and straggly, clinging to the sides of her face and neck. He thought that she'd never looked so beautiful in her life.
He proceeded over to Hermione's bedside, and carefully laid the baby in her arms, while magically inclining the bed to a more upright position.
"We have a son," she said, awestruck, while her fingers danced lightly over the curve of his cheek, his downy dark head, and his tiny perfect hands. He let out a squeak of protest, and opened his eyes to stare suspiciously at the interlopers bothering him. They were a murky, newborn blue.
"His eyes are going to be brown."
"They're going to be green," Harry and Hermione said in unison, then looked at each other and smiled.
"He's beautiful," Harry said, looking at Hermione. "You're beautiful."
"I feel beautiful," Hermione said, mystified. Her eyes welled with tears, as her husband leaned down and kissed her. She turned her attention back to their son. "Isn't he the most perfect thing you've ever seen?" Her hand trembled slightly as she touched his little ears and nose. "Can you believe we made him?" Her voice was an awed whisper. Harry felt his own throat clog up, and when Hermione reached up to gently brush tears away from his face, he thought he was going to come unglued.
"Dammit, woman," he said abruptly, and Hermione laughed through her tears. Madame Pomfrey looked at him reprovingly from where she was bustling about at the foot of the bed, scourgifying the floor and changing the linens.
"There are … quite a number of people outside, waiting to hear the news," the mediwitch said with pursed lips. Harry grinned, wondering how much Ron and Ginny had annoyed Madame Pomfrey during the course of Hermione's labor. He kissed his wife on the forehead.
"I'll go tell them," he said, then looked at Madame Pomfrey questioningly. "Can they come in?"
"I suppose," she said, reluctantly. "But they're to be quick and quiet."
Harry was surprised at the number of students…and teachers… out in the hallway. At first, nobody appeared to notice his arrival. Parvati, Neville, and Professor Lupin were quietly talking, and Ron appeared absorbed in a Chudley Cannons magazine. Harry noticed with a grin, that he had changed out of his graduation robes, and was already wearing his Cannons' jersey. He saw a fragment of black billow from around the corner and disappear, and wondered in amazement if Snape could possibly be waiting for news too. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were standing a short distance away, looking tense and pensive.
"Ahem," Harry cleared his throat softly, and created instant bedlam, as people leapt to their feet, and called out questions. "Hermione's fine. The baby's fine. It's a boy." There were cheers and scattered applause. "Mr. and Mrs. Granger?" He opened the door, and gestured inward with his hand. "Ron? Ginny?" He re-entered the infirmary, while the others outside sat back down to wait their turn.
"He's so little!" Ginny squealed, leaning over Mrs. Granger's elbow, as the new grandmother beamed down at him. "Look at all his hair!"
"I don't think he's going to have very good luck in the hair department…genetically speaking," Hermione said, with chagrin.
"Hey!" Harry said, looking offended.
"What're you going to call him then?" Ron asked, looking somewhat abashed. Harry and Hermione had kept the baby names they'd chosen a dark secret, telling no one.
"Jamie," they said together.
"I like it!" Ginny said. "Is that short for - ?"
"James," Hermione supplied, nodding. She looked at her parents. "After Harry's father." Harry felt his throat close up again, and he closed his eyes, hoping to forestall any more tears. Dad, Mum, he thought, did you hear that? I have a son. He's beautiful. I wish you could see him. When he opened his eyes again, Hermione was looking at him, and he had the feeling that she'd known exactly what he was thinking. Sympathy shone in her dark eyes, and she squeezed his hand gently.
Mrs. Granger had passed the baby to Mr. Granger, who handed the baby to Ron, a few moments later. The redhead looked so gangly and out of place holding an infant that Harry had an incongruous desire to laugh.
"Can you imagine," Ron said, somewhat irreverently, "the stroke Snape's going to have when another James Potter is sorted into Gryffindor in eleven years?" Harry and Ginny chortled.
"Professor Snape," Hermione corrected automatically, but could not suppress a small smile.
"Did you want to tell them the rest of his name yet?" Harry asked Hermione. Hermione nodded her head, as all eyes turned inquiringly toward her.
"We're calling him Jamie. But his full name is James Ronald Potter," she announced, biting her lip, and looking questioningly up at Ron.
The silly half-smile that had been floating around Ron's face while he looked at the baby fell off suddenly, and he gaped at them as if he'd been petrified.
"R - rea - really?" he stammered, and Harry wondered when he'd last seen Ron so flummoxed. His best friend's blue eyes looked suspiciously wet.
"Figured we owed you that too," Harry said, echoing Ron's familiar refrain. Ron was visibly trying to gather the shreds of his lost composure.
"Of course you do," he replied airily. Ginny and Hermione rolled their eyes. After a few moments, Ron reluctantly handed the baby back to Hermione.
"I guess we ought to let some other people have a go," he said. "You lot really put a crimp in the graduation party. Nobody even cared." Harry and Hermione exchanged abashed glances. "We'll be back before the Express leaves," Ron added. Mr. and Mrs. Granger went out with Ron and Ginny, promising to come back later, after Hermione had rested.
Harry sat on the edge of the bed, one arm around Hermione, as he kissed her softly on the forehead.
"Well, we've graduated," Hermione said, with an air of finality. "People are going to be leaving soon." She stroked Jamie's soft head with one finger. "Have you decided what you're going to do…about the job?" Hermione had owled her acceptance to the research firm weeks ago, but Harry had agonized over the decision, wondering what would be best for his family, for him…
Harry's eyes flitted around the hospital wing. He had finally made his decision; indeed, it seemed as if it were truly the only choice to make. He felt sure that Hermione would look superior, as if she'd known it all along.
"Don't you think Hogwart's would be a great place for Jamie to grow up?" He asked almost rhetorically.
Hermione smiled.
THE END
There, it's done. And actually, not that much shorter than the chapters, but I was having fun.
I just wanted to take a sec and thank every single person who reviewed. Especially those who faithfully reviewed at every update. I didn't reply to all of them, or even most of them, but I squealed and clapped my hands every time I saw a new review.
Without your insights, questions, and suggestions, this story wouldn't have been what it was. It was originally intended as a shorter character piece, highlighting a love triangle in the Trio, and focusing on the angst of poor lovelorn Harry. It became so much more - and better, I think - than that, and for that, I thank you again.
Still working on "Isle", so hopefully I will have a new update for that soon. Also, I have a new story in the outline-stage that I hope to start posting before too much longer. Hope you'll give them a look.
`Til we meet again,
lorien
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